Two Can Keep a Secret
by LostLover22
Summary: We are driven by five genetic needs: survival, love and belonging, power, freedom, and fun. Surviving was the easy part. The freedom and fun came with being stuck on an uncharted island. Power, well that would come much later, once I figured out who I was. Love and belonging, though, that was much harder. How do you learn to trust forty-five other strangers?
1. Chapter 1

Lost—Two Can Keep a Secret

Chapter 1: As the Smoke Clears, I Awaken

The first thing I smelled was smoke.

The second, a mixture of the salty sea air and fish. I could taste sand—it coated my tongue, the insides of my cheeks, a horrible, filthy taste—but there was also something else, something more distinct. It was tangy, metallic-y. _Blood._ A shrill scream pierced the air and my eyes shot open. I was lying face down in the sand, my arms tucked awkwardly underneath me. My head was swimming, my memory blank of how I ended up here.

Everything was dark around me except for small fractions of light peeking through the shadows. There was a great pressure digging into my abdomen. Warm, gritty sand tickled my thighs and inched its way in between my toes. My legs felt heavy—compressed.

Awkwardly, I tried moving my arms out from under me. Something above me shifted and gave way, and an abundance of sunlight struck me temporarily blind for a few seconds. I was buried underneath something, I realized. Another scream pierced the air. Followed by another. And then another. Multiple voices all shouting simultaneously. When I was finally able to open my eyes, I could only make out several pairs of feet running by, rather scatterbrained. Turning my head upwards, I could see the cloudless blue sky with puffs of grey smoke rolling by.

A strangled coughing fit overtook me and I lowered my head back to the ground, pressing my forehead into the sand. Tears rolled off my cheeks as I fought to catch my breath. If I couldn't get it under control I would start hyperventilating and then I would surely die, but that fear only made me panic more. I thrashed and squirmed about trying so desperately to free my arms, my legs. Anything. More screams could be heard followed by a horrible, awful moaning. It was loud, the sound so haunting it sent a terrifying chill up my spine.

Adrenaline kicked in and after a few more seconds of spastic rocking, I managed to free my arms. I began pushing things off of me and I quickly realized they were seats.

_The plane._

It all came back to me suddenly, a wave of memories washing over me. Our flight from Sydney to Los Angeles—Oceanic Flight 815. We had hit some rough turbulence, but the pilot had straightened us out. Hadn't he?

Perhaps this was all some crazy dream. I remembered having several drinks on the plane, maybe this was all a drunken nightmare.

The pulsating throb in my head reminded me that this was all too real. More panic set in as I tried to crawl to my feet. But something was wrong. I couldn't move. I was able to push all of the wreckage off of me, but when I half turned over I saw several seats and scraps of the plane stacked on my lower half. Propping myself up on one elbow, I tried shoving the wreckage off, but it wouldn't budge. I tried just slipping my legs out. I pulled and I pulled and I pulled, but they were pinned good and tight. A frustrated cry passed my lips and I fell to the ground, defeated.

The chaos was all around me. I was so confused and terrified, and I didn't know what to do. My thoughts were a jumbled mess.

"Help." I whispered.

My throat was dry and scratchy. I had to choke the words out.

"Help me." I propped myself up on my elbows, scanning the wasteland of the beach. "Please, someone help."

People ran in front of me, right past me. They didn't even give me a second glance. I didn't understand. Why wasn't anyone willing to help me? Couldn't they see I was trapped under this wreckage?

I cried out again in desperation, pulling with all my might to free my legs. But to no avail as they wouldn't even budge an inch. I looked out across the beach again frantically and this time I locked eyes with a man who had started to run by me. He paused briefly and I took my shot.

"Help me, please." My voice was ragged, tears brimmed my lids.

I stared fully into his eyes, waiting for him to turn and run the opposite way, but he didn't. A great wave of relief washed over me as he sprinted to where I was lying.

"What's the problem?" he asked me, his accent the first thing I noticed.

"My—My legs are pinned and I can't pull them out on my own."

He glanced over my body once before meeting my gaze. "There's a lot of wreckage—"

"Please!" I interjected, petrified. "Please, you have to help me."

"—but I'll see what I can do."

He was silent for quite some time. His eyes were gazing down at me but I could tell that his thoughts were far off somewhere else. I was appalled. Was he really contemplating whether or not to help me? But in an instant he jumped to his feet and began working at removing the wreckage off my lower half.

I attempted to help him, but it proved difficult having to hold myself up with one arm and pushing heavy objects off with the other. After a while I just gave up and watched him hopefully. He was able to move quite a few pieces of luggage off of me, some of the seats finally gave way. But I was still unable to pull myself free. Something was pinning my leg to the ground, something we hadn't come across yet. I was becoming restless and slightly panicked. As far as I could tell I wasn't in any pain, but my thoughts ran wild. What if a sharp piece of shrapnel was pinning my leg to the ground? If he pulled that out, I might bleed to death. What if it was crushing my spine and I was paralyzed, and that's why I couldn't feel anything. I suddenly felt sick to my stomach.

There needed to be something else I focused on or else I would start panicking, and then hyperventilating. I looked out across the beach and watched the others running around. And I thought I had been panicking. These people were like crazed, rabid dogs. It was sort of a terrifying thing to witness. Of course there were those who were lying on the ground, never to wake up again. Some bodies were on fire, others were pinned underneath mounds of wreckage. I swallowed heavily.

Every so often I could hear the man behind me grunting or breathing heavily, but suddenly he let out a sharp inhale. I turned my neck so quickly I think I might have given myself whiplash, but I met his gaze and his eyes were full of worry. For the most part, he managed to remove a good portion of the wreckage. But I quickly understood why he took a sharp breath. Covering most of my left leg and partially my right leg, all the way up to my hip, was a very large piece of scrap metal from the plane. As far as I could tell, it wasn't plunged into any part of my body—I could feel no pain.

"It's too heavy for me to lift on my own." He explained. "If I try shifting it slightly do you think you can pull yourself free?"

I looked at him skeptically. "I can try."

He positioned himself next to the hunk of metal, and I dug my hands deep into the sand underneath me. "Ready? One…two…"

On three he began to push against it. Since my right leg was only half covered, I tried freeing it first. My ankle, however, was trapped at an odd angle. With a heavy grunt, I pulled and pulled until it felt like I was about to dislocate my hip, but neither leg was becoming any looser. He quit pushing when I collapsed to the ground after giving up trying to free my legs. There was no point in trying. I couldn't pull them out on my own.

He came over and knelt down beside me only I turned my head away, furiously wiping at my eyes. It would be extremely embarrassing to let this stranger see me cry. I couldn't understand how I ended up in this situation to begin with. Out of all of the planes in the entire world it just so happened that mine was the one that crashed? And now I was trapped under this piece of shrapnel most likely to never get it off of me, my legs had to be crushed and all the bones, muscles, and nerves damaged. A small hiccup passed my lips as I glanced back to the man, who oddly enough, was still by my side. I figured he would have ditched me once he realized I was a hopeless case.

"What's your name?" he asked me.

It was such an offbeat question that for a few seconds I forgot what I was doing here in the first place. I stared up at him, unsure if I should tell him. We were strangers after all. I didn't know him, he didn't know me. But I guess we had already crossed that bridge, hadn't we?

"Dawn…"

He gave me a very small, but very warm smile. "Dawn, I am going to get you out of here."

I hiccupped again. "How?"

"I can't lift this on my own, but perhaps if I find a few others to help me." He looked off as if he were scanning the beach.

"You're leaving me?!" there was no mistaking the panic that was apparent in my voice.

He gently placed his hand on my shoulder. "I'll only be gone for a few seconds. Trust me, I'll come right back."

If only he knew of my severe trust issues. I didn't really have a choice, however, so I nodded my head in agreement.

The man got to his feet and I propped myself back up on my elbows. "If anything happens, if you need me to come back, just call for me alright?"

"Okay." I agreed in a soft whisper. Doubt was starting to creep its way in.

"I won't leave you, I promise."

There was something unusually…comforting about what he said. I don't know why, but as I looked up at him I felt this sense of peace wash over me. A serene calmness. He gave me one more reassuring nod before taking off. As I watched him go I realized something very important.

"Hey!" I called after him. "What's your name?!"

Luckily he heard me in time and quickly spun around. "Sayid!"

And then he was gone, disappearing into the mass of people and smoke.

Just for the sake of being anal, I tried freeing my legs on my own again. Not to my surprise, they wouldn't budge. I didn't really expect them too. With a great huff, I rested my chin in my hand and drummed my fingers along the sand. Watching people scurry about in front of me did little to distract my thoughts, and every so often I would give my legs a small tug just to officially make sure that they were really pinned.

My thoughts soon drifted to the man who was so willing to help me. Sayid. It was plainly obvious that—based on his physical appearance and the way he spoke and the sound of his name—he was some kind of Muslim. I wasn't the greatest when it came to geography so in retrospect I really had no clue where he might be from. I wasn't even trying to be racist about it either. Clearly he was from the Middle East, it was just the matter of where. Iran? Iraq? Afghanistan?

A horrible moaning broke me from my thoughts and I looked over my shoulder for the source of that awful sound. All I could see were mounds of luggage and seats wreckage across the beach, nothing capable of making a sound like that. But I heard it again, only I quickly realized that it was coming from above me. My eyes widened as I craned my head back farther and farther to see the wing of the plane hanging several feet over me. From the looks of it the wing was only attached by a few sections of wires, and every so often sparks would fly out. As it moaned again, I watched the wing bob up and down, a section of wires breaking off.

"Oh my god…"

My heart jumped a beat at the sudden increase in adrenaline as I attempted to free myself once again. The wing was going to fall there was no denying that, and I was stuck right in its path. I would be crushed. No matter how hard I pulled or swerved or shook, the outcome remained the same: I was pinned good and tight.

Panic took over once again at the thought of death looming so close. "Sayid!" I shouted hysterically.

He said he would come right back. All I had to do was yell his name and he would come back. That's what he said. So why wasn't he coming? I yelled his name over and over and over again until my voice ran ragged, but I still could not see him. The wing of the plane groaned again and more sparks flew overhead, people were still screaming on the beach—still running around like crazy.

"Sayid!" I cried again.

Relief washed over me when I finally spotted him heading back this way with three men behind him. I was also growing anxious as I glanced back up at the wing. Who knew when that thing was going to fall? What if it crushed all of us?

I didn't even give him a chance to say anything. "You have to hurry! That wing is going to fall at any moment."

They all turned their heads upwards as if they were noticing the wing of the plane for the first time. Sayid studied it much longer than the other three, but then he went to work.

"Alright, I need you three to try and lift this scrap metal off of her. If you can just get it up a few inches, I can pull her out." He said.

They all nodded in agreement. While the others moved behind me to get into their ready positions, Sayid knelt down right in front of me. I could feel my fingers trembling in the sand, my heart thumping furiously against my chest. He leaned forward and wrapped his arms around mine, his large hands tightly squeezing my triceps. I reciprocated his action, grabbing onto his arms, but it put my body in a very uncomfortable position.

"On the count of three," his eyes never left mine, "One, two…lift!"

There were several groans from behind me and ever so slowly the pressure on my legs started to lessen. Sayid pulled on my arms gently, my body moved forward slightly, but it still felt as if I was wedged between something. I shook my head at him several times letting him know that it wasn't working, but he didn't stop. He kept on pulling, the others kept lifting. My shoulders were starting to ache. I let out a small whimper of discomfort.

"Just a little more," he spoke softly.

A loud howl came from above us and I knew we were running out of time. Sayid pulled on my arms once again, harder this time, and I let out a small scream of sorts as I felt myself shoot forward, free of the wreckage.

In one swift move, he scooped me up into his arms and took off running. I wrapped my own tightly around his neck, peering over his shoulder at the fallen plane. It was still hard to grasp that it had crashed in the first place. The three men had sprinted off, trying to get as far away from the blow as well. It was as if everything was moving in slow motion; I watched as the wing detached itself completely from the plane and fell to the ground. Just before it hit, I tucked my head into Sayid's chest.

I heard the explosion first.

Then I felt the heat burn across my arms.

And then I was thrown roughly from Sayid's arms.


	2. Chapter 2

**Alright, so I feel like a complete doof. When I went to post my first chapter I had such a hard time trying to figure out how to enter this little blurb at the start of the chapter. I fought with the system for nearly an hour before just deciding to post it. Then I saw the copy/paste function and I gave myself a nice face palm for being so idiotic. **

**So anyways, this story is actually a rewrite. It was originally posted a few years ago, but I wasn't quite happy with it. I started chapter one probably last November, hated it, erased it, and started over. I repeated this process for the next several months and I finally settled on the previous chapter. Now that I've gotten my writing drive back I hope to frequently post chapters! However with classes getting ready to start I can make no promises. **

**I'm thinking of changing the summary so people can actually figure out what my story is about. That was another instance of a face palm when I read it this afternoon-what the hell had I been thinking? **

**I've started on chapter 3, hopefully I'll crank it out sometime this weekend and get it up! If there is anybody out there, please review! That way I won't feel like a total loser... :/ Even if it's a flame, I'm not picky! **

**Okay, that's enough of my rambling...here's chapter two. I hope you enjoy! **

Chapter 2: If You Get Lost You Will Always Be Found

_I popped three or four pills into my mouth when the plane started to shake slightly._

_"Turbulence my ass…" I grumbled._

_The other passengers hardly seemed to notice. I pocketed my little orange bottle in my purse and pulled out my phone, checking to see if I had any messages. The blank screen stared back at me and I angrily tossed it back into my bag before shoving it under my seat. This thirteen hour flight was proving to be much too long. My foot was tapping furiously on the floor, my fingers drummed along the arms of the seat. _

_"My god, Dawn, if you don't stop fidgeting I'm going to need a few of those pills." Shannon growled, giving me a scrutinizing look._

_I returned her glare. "Well it's your fault I'm on this godforsaken plane in the first place."_

_Shannon smiled at me, a smile I had come to know as one she gave when she got her way. "You wouldn't have come if you really didn't want to. Anxiety or not. Admit it, you love me."_

_"Yes, yes Shannon, I love you. That's why I flew all the way around the world to get your ass." I suppressed a laugh. "Boone next time leave me out of your family quarrels."_

_He leaned forward in his seat and gave me his signature grin showing his perfect pearly whites. "How else was I supposed to get her to come home? She wouldn't have listened to me."_

_"That's because you have nothing interesting to say." Shannon chimed in._

_"Oh yeah? Is that why you called me the other night, sobbing, because your drunk ass boyfriend—"_

_"Of course you'd bring that up! Jesus Christ, Boone you always—"_

_I growled in annoyance. "If the two of you don't shut up then I'm going to the back of the plane, downing five more pills, and slipping into a never ending coma to which I'll—"_

_I was abruptly cut off when the plane shuddered violently. My fingers grasped the arms of my seat with an iron grip, and I looked around at the other passengers. They looked just as startled as I did. My chest was heaving up and down with quick, spastic breaths and I immediately regretted the two margaritas I drank earlier. I made sure my seatbelt was fastened tightly before glancing over at Shannon with worried eyes._

_"Uh, folks, we will be experiencing some slight turbulence as we pass through a large air pocket. It's nothing to worry about, just make sure your seat belts are fastened and we kindly ask that you remain in your seats until we have passed. The flight attendants will be coming around to give assistance to anyone who—"_

_The plane shook again, worse than the last time, and several gasps and screams sounded throughout the galley. I was convinced that this pilot had no clue what he was talking about. This was no air pocket. We continued to shake, the flight attendants attempted to make their way up the aisles, but they were stumbling and some were even falling into the passenger's seats. My heart was beating so harshly I feared it might literally jump out of my chest, and I had to prevent myself from throwing up on Shannon. _

_The lights started flickering overhead as the turbulence became worse. And then out of nowhere, we were dropping rapidly as if this were some ride at an amusement park. I couldn't control the scream that passed my lips. The tears were flowing freely from my eyes. I yelled for Shannon once, I think, but everything was starting to blur together. The masks from overhead dropped down and I spastically reached out for one._

_There was an explosion from behind me, and suddenly my hair was whipping around my face furiously. A loud howling deafened my ears. Everything was happening so fast. I was clinging to my mask as hard as I could trying to keep myself from hyperventilating. The only thought running through my head was that we were all going to die. We had been flying over the Pacific Ocean; the only place we could crash was in the water. And there was no way we could survive that. _

_I was thrown forward suddenly, my face crashing into the seat in front of me hard, and I heard a loud crunch before I fell into darkness._

_{~/~}_

"Here."

I was broken out of my thoughts to see Sayid standing over me, a blanket in his hands. With a warm smile I graciously accepted it.

"Thank you." I whispered, wrapping it around my shoulders.

He threw an armful of wood into the fire before sitting down next to me. I watched him curiously as he stared straight ahead at the orange embers, the muscles in his jaw working furiously. He was in deep thought about something, and I didn't think I should disturb him from wherever his mind wandered off too.

I looked out across the beach at the other survivors who were all huddled around their makeshift fires as well. We were all strangers, of all different shapes and sizes, and now we were thrown together by a crazy turn of events, expected to trust each other to help one another survive.

The sun was just beginning to set; the sky had turned that beautiful shade of orange as day slowly started to sink into night. After the wind had fallen there had been a great explosion that had knocked me from his arms. For a few moments, I thought I had lost all control of my legs. They didn't seem to want to work. But it all came back to me suddenly and I had found the strength to stand up, although I had been extremely unsteady.

I glanced down at my legs for the hundredth time expecting to see a huge gash or dark bruising, but there was none. The first time I had fully examined myself I was in complete shock at the fact that there were no markings on my legs. They had been entirely covered in wreckage, a huge piece of shrapnel albeit, and yet I had no evidence of any trauma at all. The only injuries I had sustained was a broken nose, which I hadn't even noticed until Sayid had pointed out that I had dried blood still on my face, and a large gash on my forehead. My arms had a few small scratches on them, but that was it. For being in a plane crash, I had been extremely lucky.

Sayid had stayed by my side throughout the whole ordeal. He found us this spot, was able to get a few dinners from the cockpit of the plane, and just now brought me a small blanket. And I hadn't even asked him for any of this. I would have been fine on my own.

We had built a signal fire a few hours ago hoping to make it easier for the planes searching for us to find us. So far, we haven't remotely seen or heard any form of rescue. Which struck me as odd. They should have come by now. Flight 815 was obviously not on the right course; surely they were able to track us.

I looked back to Sayid, who was still in his comatose like state. "You don't have to stay with me, you know. I think I'll be okay."

He finally tore his eyes away from the fire and met my gaze. "I made you a promise that I wouldn't leave. I'm not going anywhere."

"Just until we are rescued alright? Then I'll buy you a drink for your heroic deed."

"I look forward to it." He held out his hand for me and I firmly shook it.

Silence filled the air again as we both looked back to the fire. The sky was growing darker, a few stars were starting to come out. I scratched at my wrist and forearm some before pulling the blanket tighter around me. As grateful as I was that he saved my life, it was awkward sitting here with him. I didn't know him, didn't know where he came from, what kind of person he was.

"You think they would have come by now."

I looked back at him. "Who?"

His eyes remained forward. "Anyone."

"I'm sure they're looking for us. They have to be." I chewed on the inside of my lip. "Unless…"

"Unless what?" he asked.

"What if this place is like some deserted island." I pondered. "What if it's not even charted on maps?"

Sayid studied me for a long time with an intense gaze that I found myself shrinking under. Was he scrutinizing me? My idea couldn't have been that farfetched, could it?

"We're going to be rescued, Dawn."

"I'm not saying that we won't be. I'm just considering all of our options. You said yourself, they should have been here to rescue us by now…."

He didn't say anything, just continued to watch me. I suddenly felt very stupid for what I had said.

"I'm sorry." I retracted. "I always see the worst side in every situation."

I expected to receive the silent treatment for the rest of the night, but surprisingly, he smiled at me. "So you're one of those 'glass half empty' people?"

I smirked. "I guess I am."

Maybe he wasn't so bad after all.

"How's your nose?" he asked.

I gingerly touched it. "Okay, I've broken it before a few times so the pain doesn't really bother me. My head hurts a lot worse."

"You've probably got a concussion," he narrowed his eyes at me. "Or have you had one of those as well."

"Actually I have." I received a reluctant look from Sayid. "I was a tom boy growing up. I liked to play rough with the other boys from my town."

He began to laugh causing my face to turn bright red. What had possessed me to tell him that? I covered my face with my hands in sheer embarrassment.

"Don't worry," he chuckled, "I won't tell anyone. It'll be our little secret."

"Gee, that makes me feel a whole lot better." I groaned. "I think it's only fair that you tell me one of your secrets now."

The smile faded from his face. "And what if I don't have any secrets."

"Everyone has secrets."

I could tell right away that I had hit something that Sayid was completely uncomfortable with. His body language changed, his eyes roamed everywhere else except to me. I hadn't meant anything by it. It was honestly just a joke. Like being a tom boy was my huge secret. I just thought it was helping to break the ice a little bit.

"Look, Sayid, I didn't mean to—"

I was cut off by the loudest, most terrifying noise I had ever heard. Everyone on the beach had heard it too as they all got to their feet. Sayid and I were no exceptions. It had sounded like it came from the thick of the jungle, and a few people were already making their way towards the tree's edge. And then we heard it again. Followed by loud, what sounded like stomping. Far off in the distance, I could see trees collapsing.

We all huddled together as the stomping grew closer and closer. Sayid was directly to my right, our arms barely grazing each other. I looked up at him, and he to me, and I thought he was going to say something, but another roar sounded through the canopy. And then it stopped. The stomping became faint until we could hear it no longer.

For awhile, no one moved. We all awkwardly exchanged looks with each other trying to find the right words to say. Finally, someone behind me manage to say what I'm sure everyone else was probably thinking.

"What the hell was that?"


	3. Chapter 3

**Alright! Chapter three is up! It took me longer to finish this than I had anticipated. Now with classes starting I think my updates will most likely come on the weekends. I've already started working on chapter 4 so hopefully by next weekend I will have an update for you!**

**Enjoy! **

Chapter 3: It's a Brand New Day

I woke up to the beautiful sound of the waves rolling into the shore. The sun was just rising, there was hardly a cloud in the sky, and the temperature was near perfection. People pay boat loads of money to have a house on the beach on some remote island, and we're getting it for free. So why didn't it feel as sweet?

I rolled over onto my side and came nose to nose with a sleeping Sayid. With a small gasp, I pushed myself back a few inches. For a moment I had forgotten that I had fallen asleep next to him. After our encounter with the mysterious creature in the jungle no one seemed to be able to sleep. We had all dispersed back into our little groups, but everyone talked of the same thing. What had we seen—and heard? Sayid and I had talked for several hours, even long after the others had finally succumbed to their fatigue. The last thing I remembered before falling asleep was talking about dinosaurs. I chuckled to myself, how idiotic.

As I watched Sayid sleep, curiosity got the better of me. He wasn't a peaceful sleeper that much I could tell. His jaw was set in a hard line, his brow was furrowed. I found myself studying his features. He had unusually long eyelashes for a man as well as long fingernails. The more I thought about it the more I wondered if the scratches on my arms came from his nails, not from the plane. His lips were large, full and cracked. There was a small cut scraped across them. I had never liked when men wore their hair back in a ponytail—I thought it looked rather silly—but he seemed to pull it off well.

I mentally slapped myself. What was I doing? Here I was lying a few mere inches from a complete stranger and I was ogling him like a twitterpated school girl. _Stupid. Stupid. Stupid._

Quietly, as not to disturb him, I slowly rose to my feet and sauntered away from him. A few people were already awake wandering around the beach same as I was. One man I spotted calf deep in the ocean, his arms thrust into the water. There was a woman who was heavily pregnant standing at the water's edge only a few feet away. I felt sorry for her. It couldn't be easy being _that _pregnant, and on top of that she had to worry about all of this plane crash business. She's lucky that the trauma from the crash didn't send her into early labor.

I was so busy watching her that I wasn't paying attention to where I was walking, and I ran face first into someone's back. He turned around with a startled, yet confused look on his face, but it dissolved once he saw me standing there.

"I'm so sorry," I apologized quickly. "I wasn't watching where I was going."

He smiled down at me, making the hairs on my arms stand up. "No harm done."

My tongue felt stuck to the roof of my mouth. I stood there just gawking at him, my mind blank. He was ruggedly handsome, tall, with well-built arms that were covered in tattoos. Before I made an even bigger fool of myself I turned to leave, but he gently grabbed hold of my arm.

"Do you mind if I take a look at that?" he asked pointing at my face. "Your nose?"

I silently shook my head. With soft hands he grabbed the sides of my face and slowly tilted my head upwards. He studied it every which way it could possibly be studied, his thumbs pressed onto my cheek bones resulting in me flinching away from him slightly.

"Are you having any difficulty breathing?"

"No."

"Any pain?"

"Are you some kind of doctor?" I blurted out.

He chuckled lightly and dropped his hands from my face. "Yeah, sorry. I'm Jack."

"Dawn."

"Well Dawn, you have a Type 1 nasal fracture."

I laughed. "Probably from when my face crashed into the seat in front of me."

"Yeah, that would do it. There's also some pretty heavy swelling and bruising."

"How bad does it look?" I asked, reaching up to gingerly touch my cheek.

His eyes narrowed as if he were trying to find the right way to tell me. "Your nose is slightly crooked."

I could tell he was very worried about it; his eyes were full of concern. But I just laughed it off. "Oh, no, no, no, my nose has always been this way. I've broken it so many times before. I guess it's just permanently dented!"

Jack wasn't sure what to make of my delight. "Well, have you ever considered seeing a doctor about fixing it?"

"No," I answered simply. "It makes me who I am. But thank you for being so concerned about it, doc."

"Please, call me Jack."

"Fair enough." I began to saunter away from him.

I made it a few feet before I heard him call out, "Hey, do you want me to check that gash on your head? You might have a concussion!"

Glancing over my shoulder, I gleefully responded. "Don't be such a doctor! I'll be fine."

Then I took off running down the beach, dodging people and luggage and wreckage, laughing to myself. I had no idea why I was so giddy. Usually I was the somber, pessimistic one, but I couldn't seem to get my giggling under control. People who were watching me probably thought I was high.

When I finally came to a stop, I actually ended up being fairly close to the spot where Sayid had pulled me out from under the wreckage yesterday. The wing was on the ground, a chunk of it still barely attached to the plane. It made a sort of covering if someone were to stand under it. Being naturally curious, I wandered over to where the fusel lodge was and peered inside. Several seats were tipped over, askew. Wires hung down from the ceiling. Luggage was scattered everywhere. There were dead bodies as well.

In a way, it still felt like some crazy dream. I couldn't wrap my mind around the thought that something like this could even happen. I remembered seeing stories on the news frequently enough about plane crashes and heroic tales of survival, but I never thought in my life I would be among one of those tales.

I was suddenly struck in the shoulder by something hard, causing me to stumble forward slightly from shock. Whatever it was left a nice looking red mark on my arm. Suspiciously, I began scanning the ground for the object. It didn't take long for me to locate it, but my heart skipped a few beats once I recognized it. A neon green and pink Nike running shoe.

It was my shoe.

With a furrowed brow, I looked back in the direction from where the shoe came from only to have my jaw drop and my eyes widen in disbelief.

"Oh my god…"

Sitting at their own little makeshift camp, my two closest, most very best friends, Shannon Rutherford and Boone Carlyle, were staring directly at me—well, Shannon was rather glaring at me. But they were alive, and looked like they had faired a lot better after the crash than I had. At least they had had each other.

I don't think I had ever sprinted so hard in my life before, and they were only a few short feet away. As soon as they got to their feet I practically jumped into Shannon's arms enveloping her in a fierce hug. Her blonde hair tickled my face, the scent of her sweet pea shampoo still present. I started laughing again, overjoyed to have my best friend in my arms. To be honest, I thought both her and Boone had perished after the crash. Last night Sayid and I had briefly looked for them, but to no avail. I assumed that if they had been alive they would have searched for me, so when I never saw or heard from them…

Shannon and I had met at our freshman year orientation when we were forced to room together for the weekend. I had never left home before and the transition from small town Illinois to big city California had me a little culture shocked. My first impression of her had been that she was a spoiled little rich girl and we would have absolutely nothing in common. She was tall, tan and blonde—the typical popular girl from high school—while I was short and stout with a little more muscle build, and bland, boring brown hair. Our interests were completely different, but in a way, we sort of completed each other. I was the grounding that she needed in her crazy, run around life, and she brought out a wilder side of me that I usually kept dormant. After that weekend, we had become the best of friends and we had promised to always stick by each other's side. So far, we had stayed pretty true to that promise.

And then there was Boone. I first met him about a month and a half after we had started our freshman year when he came to visit Shannon one weekend. They were step brother and sister—her dad married his mom—but they were unusually close, like they had been siblings their whole life. More of it came from him. I suspected that he carried a lot more feelings for her than he led us to believe. After first meeting Boone I was swooning hard. He was your typical heartthrob. Gorgeous, piercing green eyes. Tan, toned, and tall. Dark, shaggy hair. Now though, well, he was more like my brother.

When we finally broke apart, I gave Shannon the biggest grin my cheeks would allow. And then it promptly vanished when she punched me in the arm, the same arm that had been struck by my shoe.

"Ow!" I exclaimed. "What the hell was that for?"

"Do you know what you put me through last night? I thought you were dead!"

"She was pretty inconsolable." Boone interjected.

I rubbed my sore arm. "Sorry, but yesterday was pretty chaotic."

She didn't seem convinced. "Well you could have tried to find us this morning. Instead, we watch you run right by us, laughing like a complete lunatic. The only way I could get your attention was throwing your freaking shoe at you!"

"You could have just came over and said 'hi'." She raised her fist like she wanted to hit me again. "Alright, sorry. Geez, I was just joking. Look we're all here—we're all alive—let's just leave it at that, because if I remember correctly, you didn't come try and find me either."

Shannon sucked in her cheeks, knowing I had won the battle. The usual outcome of our 'fights'. With an eye roll and a laugh, she hugged me again. "Just don't disappear on me again, alright?"

"Deal." I chuckled, looking to Boone. "It's good to see you too."

He flashed me his pearly whites. "I'm surprised you can see anything with that black eye."

I punched him in the arm. "Thanks, asshole. I can see you two managed to scrape by with only a few minor cuts."

Boone merely shrugged. "You could be worse for the wear, you know. I saw a guy with some shrapnel in his chest. Another, his leg was completely torn up. I think we all are pretty lucky."

I definitely couldn't argue with that. Despite how much of an eyesore my black and blue face probably was, it could have been a lot worse. Bruise will heal. Cuts and scrapes will scar over and eventually fade. But those of us who hadn't made it…

"Saint Boone, you've done it again." I groaned.

"That's why I just try to ignore him." Shannon chirped. She grabbed onto my hand. "Come on. We were able to find our luggage, and I think all of your stuff is still there."

Shannon led me over to our stuff, and right away I spotted my oversized, bright blue suitcase. It had been opened—either Shannon's doing or someone sifted through it trying to determine if it was there's. I dropped to my knees and started going through my things, which was relatively easy enough considering I had everything already sorted. From left to right, I took a quick inventory of shirts, pants, and shoes. In an inner pocket I found my swimsuits and other undergarments, and buried beneath those was a large Ziploc baggie with my toiletries.

"What about my purse?" I asked Shannon. "And my backpack?"

She gave me a dismayed look. "We haven't found that stuff yet. I'm sure it'll turn up though."

"It better. I had tons of cash in my purse, not to mention my pills. My backpack had all of my journals in it."

"We'll find it." She reassured me.

I sure hoped she was right. The money I wasn't so worried about, but I could only go two days without my pills. After that, I was frightened to think of what would happen. Hopefully we would be good and rescued by then. I found myself scratching at my forearm.

"Here, have some breakfast." Shannon handed me a bottle of water and a chocolate bar. "It'll take your mind off of things."

I snatched it hastily, shoving a huge chunk in my mouth. "Since when did you start eating chocolate?"

"Please, like I'm going to start eating that junk. I'll eat on the rescue boat."

Boone and I shared a reluctant look. "Uh, Shan, we may be here awhile." He tried to tell her.

"I'll eat on the rescue boat." She stubbornly retorted.

With a shrug of my shoulders I jammed the rest of the chocolate bar into my mouth. If Shannon wanted to choose this week as her anorexic week then there was nothing I could do to stop her, but that didn't mean that I had to deprive myself of food.

I pulled my hair out of the messy ponytail it was in and run my fingers through my dark tendrils. "What if rescue never comes?"

"Don't even say something like that." She snapped at me.

"I'm just saying." I held my hands up in defense. "Wouldn't they have already come by now?"

"Maybe they are having trouble finding us." Boone said.

Shannon scoffed. "How could they not find us moron. They track the plane."

"The transponder could be broken."

"They'd still know what path we were on."

"We were over the Pacific Ocean, Shan, how can you think—"

"That's just like you. You know, you're always putting me—"

I rubbed at my temples furiously. "Would the both of you just shut up? Christ, you're giving me a headache." They both glared at me, but I've grown so used to breaking up their fights that it hardly bothered me anymore. "I hope we get rescued soon, because I'm not going to be able to put up with your constant fighting."

"We don't constantly fight." Shannon defended.

"What do you mean we don't constantly fight?" he interrupted. "That's all we do"

"Why can't you just let it drop—"

"You're the one who said—"

"OH MY GOD!" I shouted, covering my ears. "Does it never end?!"

I buried my face into the sand as they continued to bicker like I wasn't even there.

_Lord, please let us be rescued, _I prayed. Shannon started to bring up how rough her childhood was, and Boone defended his mother's actions.

_Soon._


End file.
